Day 66 - Flying into the beautiful Leh

I think I must hvave fallen asleep for 20 minutes or so. The next thing i heard over the intercom was “We are just looking for some cloud clearance and then we will begin to land”. I looked out at the cloudy sky and laughed to myself. For some reason I had come to think that planes, in this day and age, did not need to see when they were landing. As the clouds cleared and we began to descend I realised why. The peaks of the surrounding mountains where almost touching the tick cloud over. The views of the landscape below can only be described as breathtaking. A valley deeply cut through its centre with a wide low meandering river. Barren rocky and sandy hills centred around a large low village. The plane banked in a wide anti-clockwise arc amongst the lower hills and continued its descent. As we got lower I noticed what appeared to be a fairly large army base of sorts spread out across the valley floor. The plane continued is rather unusual erratic spiral downwards. Nevertheless, the pilot tocuhed the big bird down rather smoothly and be the time he fully braked and turned the plane I noticed there was less than 200 metres of runway left.

Army officers stood at the ready, as we disembarked, ushering us quickly on board the tiny awaiting buses. The views were astounding on the two minute journey to the terminal building. You could sense the difference in the altitude immediately. At 2,600 metres the air seemed different. Thinner although a million times fresher than anywhere we'd being. My tummy had begun acting the night before we left and here I was beginning to get cramps again. The airport buildling seemed pretty small as we pulled up. A tractor pulling a trailer loaded with bags arrived alongside. The moment you walked inside you were upon the one and only baggage conveyor. It clatterred to life as the bags were hauled onto it from outside. Another new and totally unique and wonderful part of India we had just arrived in. After collecting our bags and registering ourselves we exited the front of the building. Fully armed army officers seemed to be in all directions. Presumably due to the recent troubles and Leh being on the Pakistan-Indo border made it a higher security risk area. We loaded into two white taxis and began our journey towards some Rough Guide recommended guest houses. At this stage I was feeling the worse for wear with the mixture of the Delhi belly and some altitude sickness thrown in. The first three places we tried were fully booked out. We arrived at a place recommended by one of the drivers called the Meridian. I let the guys go in and check it out. Five minute later Aidan came out and started unloading his bags. He said something about it costing 1000rps as he turned and went inside. I grabbed my bags and Eoghan, feeling a bit overome by the altitude sickness, came in behind me. After some confusing we were shown to a small unmade room with hard beds with thin mattresses. I couldn't work out how it was so expensive and myself and Eoghan went up to see the lads. The boys were settling into far superior rooms with TVs. I made some comment about, “this being bullshit and said I was going to find somewhere myself as I stormed out by myself. Feeling rather sick and just wanting somewhere to lie down my stubbornness was getting the better of me I walked two minutes around the corner and found a small family run guest house with a beautiful flowered garden. I asked the gentleman standing outside, if they had a room available. He showed me into a bright double room with a separate bathroom across the hall with hot water for 300rps whether for one or two people. I agreed to take it. As I returned to the other hotel Eoghan leaned out of the bedroom window. I told hom the cost of the room if he wanted to jon me and he said we were going to put a third bed in the rooms, Still annoyed with the whoe thing I muttered something and went inside. Peter immediately offered the bed in his room and I said, probably in hindesight now, rather rudely “No thanks, I'e found somewhere” as I collected my bags. As I walked backed to the little guesthouse I realised there and then me spending too much time with a large group was not really working out. There needed to be a change of some sort. I met two English girls sitting in the garden looking at the most splendid view. I stood with my bags and chatted for a bit about the usual traveller stuff. You realise you go over the same story so any times with so many people.Its chat for the purpose of being polite. Where are you from, where have you being, how long are you staying, what did you think and where are you going????? This snippet of conversation is the most widely repeated bit of diarrohea I have spewed out as I have travelled around. Nevertheless, I stood there with these horrible stomach cramps and the weight of my bags crippling me with these totally strangers for the purpose of what I believe is polite. It finally all became too much, so I excused myself and went to my room. The lady of the house whom I had told I had a bad stomach made me a brew of fresh mint tea. I lay down on the very hard bed and fell asleep.

I woke 14 hours later read some of The Times and a bit of Catcher in the Rye. The landlady brought me another cup of her delicious mint tea. I had decided I needed some time by myself and perhaps even a month or so might suffice although I knew there were qualities, that being part of the group, were being brought out in me that I didn't like or want. I needed some Sam time. So I resolved to doing that. I fell back asleep an hour later.

Day 39 - Thursday - Alleppey Backwaters

10.30am. Awoken by kids and voices. As I walk out of our room the guys that I met last night are sitting around with their feet up. Aidan gets up after an hour or so. He checks out the details on the houseboat and wakes the lads to be ready to leave in an hour. Understandably, they are not too chuffed to be moving so quickly just after waking up. We order beers and food for the boat journey and head for breakfast. As recommended by the guys we find Hotel Jaws around the corner. It is not quite what we expected although well overdue. We have being fairly looking eating in a lot of places that cater for westerners. Now we had just walked into a local place filled with locals. There were some bigs tables laid out and handful of people eating and drinking. Watching the number of flies and the general grubiness of the place put most of us off eating. Aidan was super positive and started eating some of fried bread they put on the table in front of us. The rest of us declined and did with the cup of black coffee they served. Four coffees, a piece of fried break and 6 bananas cost 21rps. We picked some snacks for the boat as we walked back.

The guys drove us to the backwaters in one of the flashest looking jeeps I have seen since I arrived in India. The guys had the sound banging with the most ridiculous base cannon thumping away in the boot. Eoghan had organised for a Karam board to be delivered on the boat, so we stopped to pick up the kit of pieces and chalk for it. We arrived at the dock which was lined with rows upon rows of whicker style houseboats. We followed the guys on board and were shocked by the large flat screen TV and the sweet lounge that greet us. They guys continued walking through the boat and asked us to follow. It was the boat behind this one. It was not far off in layout. A little more basic although really something else. Kind of like a 45 foot deluxe mobile home with two double ensuite bedrooms. A dining room, kitchen at the rear and a lounge on an upper deck with chairs and a large mattress bed overlooking the front. It had satellite tv, dvd player and stereo with electrical points throughout. We were at home straight away. The boat began reversing immediately. The whole lakeside was lined with one houseboat docked after the other. Some double parked. The boat gently moved along with the greatest of ease. It was peaceful, calm and serene as we floated along. The engine made very little noise. The waterways had numerous other houseboats travelling gliding along in different dirrections. I just there, still, absorbing another world as we moved along. It is quite a spiritual experience. This much visited tourist pathway cuts through water based villages with peoples homes being observed like goldfish in a bowl. You watch them washing their clothes, heading to work, walking back from the shops with bags of good. School kids skippig along the narrow pathways on their way home from school. There appears to be no road network, only one canal after another. Behind each house lies more paddy fields. You can watch women and men toiling away in the distance, collecting the paddy. Palm trees line the horizon in every direction. It is quite a beautiful sight, while at the same time it feels slightly obtrusive. It crosses my mind, do they look at the rich people floating along in the palaces with any form of contempt. The cost of one night on board one of this luxiourous boats, might be as much as a half years wages. Does it make them to want to be one day the person on the other side of the glass.

We dock for a lunch of chicken and a collection of local vegetable dishes cooked by our staff. We munch away hearthly and adventure to taste just some of the unusual taste placed infront of us. I find that the more western food we've started eating the less Indian food you are tempted to try. The staff relax for an hour after lunch before motoring off again. The normal village life continues to move along as we pass through it. I notice at one point a group of nuns on board a school boat. Actually come to think of it, we have passed numerous schools alonmg the banks. Another thing that peppers the canals are boat stops. Just like a bus stop, accept for baots. These seem to be serviced regularly by numerous ferries, similar to the one we caught in Kochin. The rest of the afternoon goes by as smoothly as the silky dark water. The boys entertain themselves with books, PSPs, while I spend the moajority of it just observing and taking it all in. We have beiong told that the boats are not allowed to sail after 6pm or so and true to its word we dock at 6.15. The Karam board is brought on board within minutes, much to the delight of Eoghan, whom has being eagerly waiting for it. The next few hours are spent playing Karam. I revert to the PSP and my book. Dinner is served just before eight and is another wonderful feast beautifully prepared and presented by our captain/chef. We finsih up pretty much everything that is on offer and head back up to play some Karam. The rains have being falling for the last 2 hours and the mosquito are gathering in their droves. These are followed by moths and then by geckos. A small food chain all in itself. Of course man's arrogance suggest he is at the top, always forgets the mighty mossie. Not tonight. After a few hours of Karam and loads more beer the bugs get the best of us so we retire to one of the bedrooms to watch a movie on the laptop. The four of us sit, t-shirts off, nothing sexual, purely sweatbox heat watching the Eastern Promise on Ian's XPS. The heat is ridiculous as we can't tunr on the fan due to its beyond loud noise. Ian leaves first and I stick it out till the bitter soaking end. The movie is trash. 2.5 out of ten. I lie down and sleep comes quickly, as always.

Day 38 - Wednesday - Fort Cochin

We packed our bags in preparation to head south to Alleppey. I was originally going to wait for the boys on Fort Kochin although decided at the last moment to stay with the group. We had beakfast on the roof terrace. Eoghan looked like he hadn't had enough sleep. He pulled out his Barry Tea Bags and asked for a pot of boiling water. You can't leave home without them. The lads told us Peter's face had swollen baldy during the night. Peter was in no state to go anywhere. He wanted to check with the dentist what was going on. He was not in pain although he did have a rather ape like face on him. Didn't take photos. You'll have to let your imagination do the work. We checked out and left our bags in the hotel. Peter and Eoghan headed to the dentist, Ian and Aidan went to get cakes and I went off in search of the Post Office to get some stamps.

By the time I got back to the internet cafe Peter was there. The dentist was not due in until after 4pm. I remembered seeing a rather smart looking dental clinic the day myself and Ian went for a cycle so I suggested this to Peter. We jumped into a rickshaw and were there in less a moment. We sat waiting for over an hour. While we were sitting there we met a guy from Belfast. He had comes over to India specifically to get dental work done. This particular dentist had being recommended by someone in Ireland. Suddenly, it made so much sense. If you can find someone that is good and it costs at least a tenth of the price if not more. Any cosmetic work is going to save you a fortune. All you got is the cost of the flight plus the time needed to do the work. Peter finally got to see the dentist and when he walked out he seemed a little thrown. He told me that it was a different tooth to his wisdom tooth and some work was going to need to be done. He didn't want to explain it until everyone was around.

We met back with the group and went to Coffee Day. He told us that he was probably going to need to stay a minimum of ten days. This included a root canal and recovery time as there was going to be a lot of pain and swelling. We decided he was going to book into a good hotel with internet and room service. There was no point in us hanging around and we might be better off heading on to Alleppey and he would meet up with us in ten days. With that all decided it was just a matter of finding the right hotel. It came down to a choice of the Malabar House for €120 per night or the Brunton Boatyard for €90 per night. He went for the Malabar. We greeted him farewell and headed to Ernakulam. We jumped on the government bus and journey across in the direction of the railway station. The skies opened and the monsoon rains began to fall. The journey was the usual roaring engine and bone chattering jolts and bumps. Pot holes seem to make the majority of the roads in India. I realised as we were travelling that there was an enormous naval base also on Willingdon island. It took around an hour and the bus was jammed by the time we arrived in Ernakulam. Eoghan picked up to pairs of new flip-flops and we headed to railway station. The next train to Alleppey was not until 11.30pm, only 5 hours to wait. We left the bags in left luggage and headed to get food and see if we could find somewhere to buy PSPs for Ian and Aidan.

The city was packed and bustling at night. We found an Indian styled KFC type joint by the name of ChicKing. Fast food is not what it was. It looked like a fast food joint although they took your order and your food was finally delivered around 15 minute later. Meh. It was okay. Not enough chips and the drink was a mouth full that you got with the meal. We left still feeling hungry although the lads were determined to find the PSPs. We found a music shop called Planet M that had one for sale. They were so chuffed at the chance of making a sale they rang another shop 3km away and got the shop owner to come with another PSP and some games. This was at 9.20pm. The boys did a bit of haggling and got 6% discount after an hour. We head back and found a smoke filled bar. It was like something out of a movie or the type of bar we've all seeing at some christening you've being to down in a country hotel. We tried to order in the none a/c side and we nearly gave them a heart attack. They pretty much refused to serve us. We sat drinking our cold Kingfisher as locals and staff walked by staring as Eoghan and Aidan strummed the guitar.

We boarded the train just in time. It was packed and people lays asleep everywhere. This is not an exaggeration. They were actually lying asleep on the overhead baggage shelves. Some men lying asleep on the chairs woke and allowed us some room to sit down. We arrived and hour later in Alleppey station. The rain was pouring down. All of our spirits were high. We stood waiting, chatting to locals. Our rickshaw driver agreed to 40rps and all four of us and our bags piled in. We were dropped off at the Vrundavanam Guest. We were warmly greeted by two young guys that showed us to our rooms. The place had an amazing over grown garden courtyard surrounded by guest quarters. Each room had an ornate heavy doors at its entrance. We threw our bags in and sat for an hour or so chatting to a group of four Indian friends that all ran the place. They were amazingly welcoming and when they heard I was not doing the boat journey they insisted I do it with the rest of the gang for free. They insisted so I thanked them. I headed off to bed shortly afterwards and left Aidan and Eoghan chatting away to our new friends.

Day 37 - Tuesday - Fort Cochin

At breakfast I met Greg and a French couple we had met in previously in Hampi. They were on the 8 month of their world journey. Lovely couple that seemed very much in love. After Greg left I headed to the internet cafe. A moment later Peter joined me. I caught up on Bebo, Facebook and the sort. Later myself and Ian headed to the pastry cafe. Yes, we are pigs. Although you got to taste those pastries. When we got back Aidan and Eoghan got up. They both looked wrecked and Aidan didn't feel the best. I checked out about the day backwater tour. Feeling tired I headed to the room and fell asleep for for four hours. All those early mornings had finally caught up.

I awoke just after 4pm. Everyone was gone so feeling a bit lonely I went off in search of them. I thought they might have headed to the martial arts act they had discussed going to during the previous day. No. So, I walked around for a bit. Realised I had no money and I was hungry I got some travellers cheques changed. Headed to a museum we had seen the first day we arrived. It was filed with religious items. I photographed the one that has become the symbol for me of the church. Decided food was in order and headed to Coffee Day and met the lads as they were walking back. Aidan joined me. We didn't eat as the food looked really mediocre. Headed back to the internet. Three of us plus Greg went for dinner in the Old Courtyard on Princess St. Highly recommend. Ian and Peter went to the Malabar House for Tapas. Ian had eaten there for lunch and said they were not to be missed.

We all headed to another classical concert. Really didn't work. The zitar player was amazing although the drummer jut didn't seem to suit the performance. Everyone kind of felt the same about it and left feeling quite disappointed. We headed to have our evening chat in our Special Tea restaurant. Greg didn't join us. We got a lot of stuff out in the plate that was probably needed. Headed back to our rooms. Myself and Ian sat up for hour chatting and laughing about watered powered engines and government conspiracies. Fell asleep around 3 or 4am. Not quite sure.

Day 35 - Sunday - Fort Cochin

Wrote the blog and some postcards at breakfast today. Rang my partner on Skype video. Skype is such a fantastic facility when you travel. Its hard enough being away from people you love for a long period of time. Chatting to them on the phone really helps. Chatting and seeing them is in a league of its own. He was in super fab form and acting like a crazy loon. I love seeing him and miss him terribly. Skype video makes all the difference. If you are ever going away for a long period of time. Make sure to they all have webcams before you go. The boys found me still online at 2pm. I rang Ian on Skype and told him we were coming over to collect him.

We headed to the farside. Minus Peter, who was in too much pain to go anywhere. When we arrived we had planned to check out the new Batman movie – the Dark Knight in a screen in Ernakulam. Ian was so much better and delighted to on the move. We walked down to Shanmugham Rd and stopped in Coffee Beans for some lunch. His appetite was back also. A good selection of western food was munched down. When we arrived at the cinema there was a mass of people being herded down a passage way. We looked around trying to work out where to head. We went inside and were suddenly ushered through a side door to the top of the queue. As masses of young men pushed trying to get tickets, everything was paused while the westerners were sold their tickets first. We stood their laughing at each other. After 5 minutes we realised Batman wasn't on and we had just paid for some Hindi movie. We decided to head into the coffee shop. Once again security got a side door opened and we were allowed through. Crowds of young people were standing around and desperate to get tickets so we just sold the tickets on. At a small profit of 20rps. The whole thing had happened so quickly and was so insane. The Sridaar Screen is one of the only cinemas that shows movies in English in Kochin, although these are shown generally in the morning. We discussed coming to see Hancock the next day to experience the Hindi madness.

We checked out the Rainbow Bridge on the far side of the road of the cinema. The promenade was lined mainly with men. A few women were here and there. Generally men sitting in groups, smiling, walking hand in hand, staring at the whities, laughing and staring into each other eyes. It really is like walking into the middle of a gay haven. Eoghan and myself walked down the promenade towards the ferry, while Aidan went back with Ian to pick up his bags. I walked behind Eoghan by around 10 feet and just laughed. I'd say if he had being naked he would have got no more looks. Every single man and group of men turned , looked, smiled or made some comment to their friend as he walked along. It really does begin to feel like having movie star status after awhile. When we got to the port it was beginning to get dark. Eoghan was off looking for a game of Karam, after seen one in one of the old buildings earlier. I headed up to the observation tower of the new ferry building. As I was coming back down I knew we'd all meet below. As I turned into to buy my ticket I met Eoghan and then 100 yards later I met Aidan and Ian queuing to buy theirs.

After we got to the Elite we freshened up and watched some TV before going out. Ian headed to the internet cafe and Aidan went of to a classical concert in the same venue we had being the night before. We all went to meet Aidan for dinner. As we were waiting we met cashman who advised us against eating where he had. We went back to our local for the third night in a row. It was a lot of fun. With stories of breaking jaws and ribs being the main entertainment for the night. Sadly at Aidan's expense. We did find out later that his later fact was a truth. To do correct or succesful CPR you need to break the patients ribs. He doesn't know we know. So don't tell, because he will probably never read this until he gets home. Nevertheless it gave us all a great night of laughter and we all had a lot of fun. We woke the Elite manager and headed to bed. I believe I feel asleep pretty much in the middle of a conversation with Ian. Sorry about that.

Day 34 - Saturday - Fort Cochin

While having breakfast I met three very interesting people. The first was a middle-aged British gentleman by the name of Paul. Currently living in Barcelona and was travelling with his partner around India for three months. His message was be careful of eggs and recommended “The Shape of the Beast” by Arundhati Roy. Funy enough because I had only seen her first book the day before. Directly after Paul left, I chatting to a girl beside me by the name of Lily. She was a student and had decided to come to India with her mum. Now as much as my mum is a rebel, India for anyone is fairly tough. Fair due. She said that her mum was loving it and they were getting on so well. She recommended a place up north to visit and an ashram that we could stay in for a week, to do meditation and yoga. Supposedly very near to where the Beatles had stayed for some months. Finally as I was leaving I met Mike. He was from Mauritius and was running an IT business in India. He informed me you could employ a top IT professional for as little as 26,000rps per month. He also ran his own nightclub in Delhi and was currently about to start running a night in Ernakulam.

Headed over to Ian in Ernakulam after leaving the Elite. I really enjoy the trip over. The walk to the ferry, the boat journey over and the 15 min walk to the hotel. He was feeling a million times better than he had yesterday although he was certain he was going to stay put for another day at least. I stayed and watched the motorcycle diaries with him a hour and then headed back. It was near enough to three by the time I got back to Fort Cochin. I thought I'd check back to the hotel first. Was not expecting the lads to still be there. The three of them were propped up in their beds watching something on the laptop. I believe Dexter. I tutted at them and laughed. They joined me shortly on the roof top restaurant for lunch.

We head to the chemist, myself and Aidan found the day before. Peter's teeth are really at him and he needs some strong pain killers. We decide to do a bit of adventuring and go for a walk. Its quite a difference than the tourist side. Obviously where the lower cast live and off the tourist track. Its an interesting collection of brick r' brack shops, electric repairs, jewellery stores and carpenters. This is what I love about India. An uncut diamond. Beautiful and real. Majority of people smiles back warm and friendly Hellos. We visit a smart little cake and coffee shop on our return. Aidan heads off not wanting to miss the beginning of the Kathkali, a local Keralian dance/performance. After some great coffee and sweets we myself and Eoghan join him. Peter heads back to the hotel to nurse his toothache.

When myself and Eoghan enter the performance has already begun. The story is of beauty and lust, a sheep in wolfs clothing and the strength of hero. What makes their local dance famous is non-verbal communication through movements of the face and hands. The part we walked in on during the beginning, tells the full NVC vocabulary used throughout the performance. It is a colourful story with wild dance and live music. Great night performance and well worth the 150rps. We headed to our local restaurant again, for special tea and food. Within 5 minutes of getting back to my room, I'm asleep.

Day 33 - Friday - Cochin

Yes, as you can imagine I was awake first. I silently slipped out of the room and headed out into a sunny new city. I really love that. You arrive in a city under the fall of night and the next morning its all a mystery. Atypically I find a sense of a place first. Get a map, go for a walk to get the tone and energy of a place. Hold judgment and see what comes up on the awareness level with people and the surroundings. I probably presume a little about the Indian people at this stage. Expecting standard smiles and looks and greetings. Although I also expect to find the unexpected. I started by searching for a tourist office. I knew, from the Rough Guide, that Cochin was split into two main areas, Fort Cochin and Ernakulam. We had stayed on the later, the business district and I felt drawn to the other. My first stop was the railway station. Its always a safe bet to find a tourist office there. It was closed. Next after getting some direction I found another closed tourist office. Seemed kind of strange for a Friday. Okay, it looked like a little bit of discovering was in order. I walked a large block. On route I noticed a modern looking hotel. Went inside and asked if they had a map. They did. Yippee, every travelling man's best friend. Thank God for Mr. Cartographer. Now with map in hand, I continued on my journey, secure of my location. I was here.

The city was quite different than the ones we had being in previously. Probably the most western of the lot. Pathways and drains. Traffic lights and traffic. Advertisements and department stores. I waved and said hello to a few townies. Good to see it wasn't totally westernised. I got back to the Metropolitan an hour later, feeling chuffed with my little adventure. I checked on Ian and he was feeling terrible. He had really bad bout of the Delhi belly. Find it hard to hold anything in. The Immodium were not strong enough, so I said I find him some Norfloxacin and Lopermide, as recommended in a health pamphlet we had. Eoghan and Peter were in no shape to go anywhere, so Aidan and I were heading off to find a new location to move into that evening. We jumped into a rickshaw and headed to the main ferry port that would bring us to Fort Cochin. Off season fare should be around 20 to 30rps for 1 to 2km, all depending on how much your wiling to haggle.

The front of the ferry port, is a potholed bus stand, lined with a few food stalls. We headed in the direction of other passengers, into an some run down, old looking single storey structures that looked like buildings from the movie Empire of the Sun. As we continued through we were greeted by a grand new modern ferry port in stark white with a terracotta tiled roof. The front of the building was surrounded with piles of wet redish earth. Looking like a project that had gone astray somewhere along the planning lines. The interior was bare and basic. We cued and purchased two tickets at 2.5rps per person. The boats were long single storey diesel engine vessells, with a capacity of around 100 people. The seats were simple wooden benches with cracked and worn paint. We managed get two seats for ourselves as the boat packed quickly.

I consciously noticed something more here than anywhere else in India. In most places you go in India you will notice men holding hands or having their arms around each other. It cames across as genuine sing of affection. From the small bit of information I had gathered and the bit of knowledge I had heard from before, men are closer in a lot of Asian culture than we are used to seeing. Its quite strange being gay and growing up in a culture where this show of closeness between men would and is still ridiculed by many. From what I learn ed that this affection was no more than good friendship. What was different since I arrived in Kerala and now right in front of me was how loving the touches and the looks between the men is. As someone joked about me and an ex-partner many years ago, we appeared as “more than just good friends”. I can understand men being close, like women are close in our own society although this was more than that. Perhaps I was reading too much into it, although it interested me enormously this male social interaction, in such a strongly homophobic and religious society. I decide I would do some research into as soon as possible.

The boat journey across to Fort Cochin was quite spectacular. Fishing boats and oil tankers passed by on either side of the windowless vessel. We passed Willingdon Island on our left. Supposedly a dredged island created by the British in the 1920s, now a major port on the west coast of India. Within 25 minutes we arrived at our destination. The boat gently pulled alongside the jetty and before it had come to a stop people were jumpy off and making their way out of the port. As we walked out on to the main road I felt we had arrived in a good place. Over th next three hours we ate, walked around the nib of the peninsula, checked numerous guest houses, saw the Chinese fishing nets and found our place to stay. Prices vary considerably across Fort Cochin from a double room as low as 300rps to 6000rps for the boutique hotels. Bizarrely the price doesn't always reflect what you are getting. Kerala was not really humid enough to require a/c so we were only needing a nice clean room. The Rough Guide was quite accurate on its accommodation listing and the last place we checked out was the best. The Elite Hotel on Princess Street was impeccably clean with double rooms with TV's and fans in every room, for only 350rps. The moment we saw it we knew we were on to winner. There was roof top restaurant, cafe downstairs and internet cafe connected. Chuffed with ourselves we headed back to Ernakulam to collect the bags and make the move.

It was near enough to nine by the time we returned to the Metropolitan Hotel. The lads had not moved from the room and Ian was delighted to see we had picked up the medicine. He had had a terrible day with a large percentage of it spent in the bathroom. He decided he was going to stick it out in the hotel where he had room service and was at least comfortable. The rest of us got our bags, packed and were at reception paying the bill within ten minutes. We made it to the main ferry port with seconds to spare before the last boat for the evening pulled off. We all jumped on board, bags and all. We got a rickshaw on the far side to take some of us and the bags to the hotel. Myself and Eoghan walked back in the darkness. The island appeared to be having a power out. As we arrived at the Elite , Aidan and Peter were just coming downstairs. With all of us starving we found a nice outdoor restaurant at the end of the street. Special Tea was available :) We enjoyed a fine selection of Asian and Western cuisine. The place was busy and had a really nice atmosphere. Fort Cochin felt just right. Before sleeping I was delighted to catch a showing of Superman II on the TV in the room.

Day 32 - Thursday - Kodaikanal to Kochi

I awake from a dream by the sound of the phone ringing. Anyone that knows when Sam is woken and he's tired, initially he can be a bit cranky. Additionally I had some stomach cramps. The guy that I had hired to fix the camera ran to tell me that it was fixed. It had taken more work so it was going to cost me 2400rps. I refused to pay anymore than we had agreed. He said he be able to do a good discount. I just ignored him and told him I'd collect the camera later. I went back to sleep until 10.30pm. My stomach felt a little bit more dodgy when I got up. 10 minutes later I got out of the toilet and took two Immodium and some Diarlyte. A bit of the Delhi belly by the looks of it. Ian was feeling a lot worse. We needed to move to move of the cottage although we were willing to stay in the other guest house another night if needed. Ian was happy to come down off the mountain and get somewhere a bit warmer. We let Ian rest and myself and Peter cleaned up the cottage and got all the bags packed. We left our luggage in the main house and paid Saboo the remainder of the money we owed him.

We walked down towards the town. Peter stopped in with the boys and Ian and I went to the internet, picked up the camera and got a taxi. We collected the bags and went to the bus stand to wait for our bus. The boys came along 20 mins later. I felt for Ian. He was not feeling in good shape at all. I can imagine the thought of the journey ahead was the last thing he was looking forward. He lay on a rock on the ground with his head in his arms. The government bus to Palini was due to leave at 1.40. Crowds of people stood and sat around waiting just like us. When I realised which was our bus I signalled to Aidan to get seats. By the time we got to the bus with our bags the bus was jammed. Aidan was doing his best, unsuccesfully, to fend off the locals from taking the seats he had kept. We ended getting three seats. Enough for the bags, Ian and Aidan. Myself and Peter were delighted to stand/sit in the doorway coming down off the mountain. Eoghan sat on the ground behind us. After the first five stops the bus was packed and there was barely enough room to breath. I was standing in the aisle and my stomach was feeling not the best. Ian was catching some Zzzzz and Aidan was smiling away reading his book. There seems to be no limit to the number they allow on Indian buses. If you can fit one more in, then the bus isn't full.

The bus journey although at times a little uncomfortable was beyond spectacular. The three hour mountain road showed some of the most amazing scenes I have ever seen in my life. Breath taking, serene and peaceful. The green hilly scenery changed constantly as we swung around each corner. Sometimes a waterfall being revealed, other times a colourful school or church sticking on some out crop of land. India never fails to surprise me with its existence upon the most barren and difficult terrain. In some way it reminds me of the old Ireland. Can't quite put my finger on it, although I feel at home a lot of the time as I make my way through this different world. Palini was only a half an hour journey after we got to ground level. The dusty city was another schizophrenic change from Kodai. The bus stand we pulled into was the usual manic frenzy of beeping horns, swirling dirt, irritating flies and unpleasant aroma of untreated raw sewage. I headed to the Information Desk. Every bus stand we have being to so far has had some form of Info Desk. The Indian gentleman as always was very helpful and told me the next bus we needed to get was to Polkar in Kerala and from there to Cochin. I returned and told the lads. Eoghan and I went off, hoping we might find a private bus to Kochi. The streets were a collection of rundown looking shops, cooked food and fruit stalls. Young people heading home from school, stood staring at the two tall white long haired dudes, out of place in their down. It wasn't long before we realised there was no travel agent anywhere near the bus stand. A lot of Indian towns will have private tour operators that offer direct buses to and from the major towns. This was not one of them. By the time we got back to the others Ian was looking and feeling pretty bad. We boarded the next bus, got some seats and got ready for the next three hours of the journey.

40rps a head was the fare each. For some bizarre reason I felt we were being done over as usual with the tourist tax. I ended up arguing with the suspicious conductor and I even went to the effort of asking a police man on board, how much the fare was. He agreed it was 40rps. At one point the majority of the bus turned around to question at why I was calling out so loudly. After grudgingly paying the 200rps, the bus conductor sat down beside the police man and they started chatting and laughing together. As for whether the fare was correct or not there were two things that this is symbolic of. India can really get to you because so much of the time you feel and you are getting screwed over. The other is not to worry. I was probably arguing over the difference of 15 cent per person. The bus flew along a scenic route with a large mountain range off in the distance to our left. We entered one of the largest wind farms I have ever seen. It went on for a distance of around 20 miles with wind turbines going as far as the eye could see on the left and right of the road we travelled along. There is something rather beautiful and hypnotic about the sight of these wind farms. They have an elegance and stature that is hard toi explain unless you see them. I have witnessed them in Ireland and felt the same thing. Seeing them in this quantity, melodically spinning in their randomised unity is quite stilling.

Kerala appeared to be quite a different state, as we had being told by many other travellers. Even in the darkened evening you could see the modern, large residential premises on the outskirts of Polakar. Billboards and modern supermarkets. Can Communism be working successfully in one part of the world? India for that matter! The first people elected communist government. The look of the area continued to improve as we drove through the town. We checked the time of our connecting bus when we disembarked and headed for some food in a local restaurant. We might as well have walked into Supermacs on O'Connell's Street. We ordered a collection of westernised food of omelet, sandwiches and soup. Eoghan was feeling a little worse for wear. The last bumpy journey had started making him feel nauseous. Additionally Peter was beginning to feel a tooth ache from a wisdom tooth, activated by another bumpy bus journey. As we sat there, looking rather sorry for ourselves three Indians stood up to leave and introduced themselves. The oh so familiar local greeting of “Where are you from?” and “What is your name?” was this time followed by an offer of assistance of any sort. Perhaps it was how we looked. Nevertheless, this group of young men sincerely meant what they said. If there was anything that they could help us with they were there for us. They gave us their number, wished us well and gave us the warmest welcome to the state of Kerala.

Our last bus journey that night was probably the worst. It ended up being four hours in the dark and the pissing rain. The bus was rammed and after travelling for the last 7 or 8 hours no one is in the mood for it. Accept Aidan and Peter, who had felt the whole thing had being easy compared to some of the journeys. Peter due to the fact he had slept for 40% of all the bus rides. The trick was not to try and sleep, unless you were Peter. It only resulted in your head bopping away and jolting awake a moment after closing your eyes by some enormous pot hole. Indian fall asleep with ease on any journey. I presume similar to how I used to on the 45 bus in to school in the morning, back in Dubin, when I was younger. I had a small skinny Indian man, fortunately, falling on me as we raced along. I was delighted when the bus finally pulled in to Cochin (Kochi). Cats and dogs is a good description for the rain. We trundled under the nearest overhang in the bus shelter. Ian was feeling really bad and needed somewhere to lie down. Aidan had done his usual homework before arriving in a new location and knew of two hotels within minutes of where we were. He ran out into the pelting downfall, armed with his mack, and hailed two rickshaws to where we stood. A lot of government transport stands will not allow taxis enter the premises. The first group of bundled in and headed in the direction of the Metropolitan. A business hotel within 5 minutes of the Central Cochin Bus Stand.

The hotel reception was in near darkness when we arrived. One man stood behind the desk and another bolted awake from a nearby couch. We spent 10 minutes agreeing the price and went to our rooms. Very mediocre for the price. Myself and Ian's room smelt strongly of dampness. A smell I was well used to, growing up in a house with a flat roof in Ireland. The rooms were small and did what they said on the tin. Designed for your typical businessman, that only needed somewhere to rest his head, it lacked character and was functional. We order food, as even though Ian felt bad, was starving after not eating for the past two days. The toasted cheese sambos and coffee where like the room. Functional.

Dy 31 - Wednesday - Kodaikanal

I treat the lads to some French toast and beans for brekkie. Ian's stomach starts aching him and finds it hard to finish. We spend an hour reading and relaxing. Ian begins feeling a lo worse and decides to try and sleep it off. Myself and Peter go to meet the others. We all meet outside Byrant Park. The lads treat themselves to omelets off one of the street vendors. We pay the 5rps entry fee. We are handed 5 old crumpled up tickets. The low floating clouds limit your vision to around 50 feet, making the park seem small and unimpressive. A small rose garden with over 200 varieties, is the main feature, listed in the Rough Guide. I lean over and smell some of the many colourful roses. That wonderful sweet deep fragance greets me like a friend. With little else to see we head to the lakeside. Passing numerous chocolate stands along our route. As in every location in India, each place is famous for something. Kodaikanal has its chocolates and essential oils, and every second shop and stall is selling these homemade produces. We stop and buy a sampling. The lake looks man made and is lined with more stalls and vendors. Swan shaped pedal boats squeak across the surface like drunken flies skirting over a pond This time Tibetan shops selling clothes. We are greeted with smiles. I learn from one lady the word for Hello in Tibetan.

After walking over one third of the lake, we come across a boat yard and inquire about taking out some pedal boats. The place is just closed. The skies open and the rains begin. We take shelter. Order some coffees off a very enterprising vendor that finds us. We make a plan :) We agree to have dinner in town and to return to a blazing fire and some cards in the cottage that night. We jump into a white taxi van and head straight for the town. I found out the previous night the taxi colours are white because Kodai is predominantly a Christian area. We find a little restaurant. Eat, collect some supplies, I Skype home and walk back to the cottage. I arrive to join the lads who are setting up the game of poker. The open fire is flickering away. Its like a scene from an old Irish movie. Whomever had designed the interior to this place was definetely not from India. The furniture was a collection of old French and British pieces. The night was an incredibly pleasant one as we passed the hours at a mere entertainment value of 200rps per person. We finished up at around 2am and were content with our nights entertainment. Ian wasn't feeling any better lying in bed during the whole night,

Day 30 - Tuesday - Kodaikanal

We arrive in Dindugal after 4am. One hour waiting for our connecting bus. Another town where whiteys are unusual. Stares and smiles everywhere you turn. Any we asked was very helpful. People lay wrapped up in sheets asleep on the platforms. A bat circled the pillar. Different buses pulled in and crowds of Indians ran to get seats. When we thought our bus was in we join the scurry. A bus inspector motioned to us to wait. The government bus for Kodaikanal finally pulled in. We got ourselves three seats for us and our bags. Bit of a squash although not the worst.

As we make our way further inland we put on a second layer of clothes. The first time it has being need since we arrived in India. A welcome change. As the we race along dawn is nearing. The bus comes to a hault and myself and Peer jump out for a quick smoke. It appears to be a fairly long traffic jam that is going nowhere. We walk up the length of the traffic to investigate. A fairly severe crash had happened, I imagine a couple hours before. The front of the purple bus is a mangled mesh of metal. A rather foreboding feeling comes over. The thought of what the passengers went through is upsetting. The results of the insane driving become evident here. My mood feels rather subdued as we turn from he carnage. Myself and Peter say few words as we back down the road. I notice myself playing with the beads of my bracelet, like worry beads. I look up and notice one of the most beautiful sunrises ever. I turn smiling and mention it to Peter to look up. Its a welcome return to the moment for our brains after witnessing the frightening carnage. Ian is standing away from our bus looking at the sunrise when we return. We relay the story to him and mention he was probably better off not seeing if first hand.

Its not long before we are back on the road. We stupidly presume the driver will take it easy after seeing the crash. The view as we drive up the mountain is spectacular. Its a slow windy road that the you can see the driver is infuriated by. He does his damnedest to get the most out of the old bus engine as he roars it to pull the monster vehicle of steel up and around the steep inclines and bends. The road drops off to cliff face of trees and astounding panoromic views as we climb higher and higher. Before long Peter has fallen asleep and his head is bopping away rhytmically to the turns and jolts of the bus. Myself and Ian are in hysterics with cameras poised as he imitates the toy dogs you put on the parcel tray of cars. As we get higher more hotels start appearing on the hillside. Not long after we pull into an Alpine style village nearing the summit of this spectacular mountain. We give Greg a call after we get off the bus. Five minutes later he comes down to meet us with a some local chocolate as a gift for our breakfast.

We are brought to Yogpappa guesthouse were the boys are staying. We look at some rooms and take a room for 600rps for the three of us. The room feels really damp. Ian & Peter go straight to sleep.
I decide stay up and go for breakfast in pastry shop with Greg. The pastries are delectable and we munch through 10 of the between us with coffee. Next while exploring the town we find a Camera repair shop. Yes, hard to believe. At over 2,000 metres I find a guy that says he can perhaps repair the Canon camera. He tells me the charge will be between 900 and up to 1600rps at the maximum.

After an hour or so we head back to the guesthouse. I woke Aidan & Eoghan who appeared to have had their own mountain top adventure during the night. Living a recollection of a night in West Cork it seems, the boys entertained themselves high in the mountain top with stories and tales that had them giggling till the early hours. Amazingly Greg slept through the whole thing in the room next door. They were both in mighty form and were ready to head out for lunch. We went about waking Peter and Ian next. It took us to carry Ian from one room to another still wrapped in his bed linen. The female cleaner stood by watching in silence as we carried the lifeless body across the veranda. All of us laughing and she stood there staring at us as we came out of the room. We realised she was worried that something sinister was going on so we invited her in to check the very much alive although lazy McD. Ian lay still lifeless as the slightly oldish lady touched his forehead. Next thing he smiled, opened his eyes and she turned to leave, smiling at the high jinks of the lads. She got the joke. We were all falling around at the fact she thought we had murdered someone. What stories go around of the crazy whities!

As we went to leave I checked with the manager whether we could get a less damp room or a heater to dry it out a bit. His english seemed to worsen as I stood there playing charades over the words 'dampness' or 'heater'. I left him as he smiled warmly and blankly at me. We all headed up to the viewpoint restaurant for lunch. An amazing view, looking down over the valley, sprawled out in front of us. This was quickly changed as clouds raced into blocking the view with its fog like thickness. We ordered food and within a moment the skies opened and it started bucketing down. We ran inside and watched as the water poured down the windows like a car going through the car wash. The windows steamed and as we sat their waiting for our food it really felt like being in a country house back home. Lunch arrived after quite some time. Fairly mediocre, apart from the delicious chicken and sweet corn soup. After eating we were talking to the manager of the place. He told us his wages were 100rps per day. 10 years ago a years wages was enough to build your own house. Now you'd be lucky to build one after saving for 10 years. We continued chatting for a while until the rain eased off and then we left.

Before heading in to town, I wanted to show the lads a cottage with an open fire that was being rented nearby. It was taken by the time we got there. The man said he had an even nicer one and told he could brings us there. Supposedly only 500 metres away or as we say in Ireland, around the corner. After walking over 1km, in the rain, up a hill, we finally got there. It was quite a pretty little home. It had its own kitchen, fireplace, bathroom with hot water and three beds. We took it for 700rps per night. The caretaker was called Soobo and spoke with a hint of a British accent. We headed back to check out of Yogpappa. The manager was not to happy when we informed him we had found another place, that was not so damp and better for my health. We moved our bags into the boys room and headed off into town. We used the internet. I checked up on the camera that I had dropped in for repair. He said tomorrow morning. Myself and Ian collected supplies and food. We grabbed a taxi and returned to our new little cottage.

The boys joined us shortly afterwards with beers and water. We passed over the job of cooking dinner. Aidan and Eoghan did most of the work at preparing a chicken masala and rice dish. We played chess. Ate dinner and drank beer. Dinner ended up being a mass of bones. After a bit we sat down and played poker. We had a brilliant even with fire blazing away in the background. It was a lot of fun. Aidan went to head home, although the dog wars are going on outside so he declined from leaving and sat on the hammocks outside to wait for Eoghan. By 4am I climbed into bed as the embers of the fire glowed away beside me. It was a great feeling being all wrapped in blankets in the cold.

Day 29 - Monday - 14th of July - Pondicherry

Awake at 10am wrapped in my clean down duvet. I try to wake the boys gently, allowing light into the room, by opening a few of the large shuttered windows. We have our last hot showers for a while. Peter gets up and we all pack our bags for a slightly delayed checkout. As Ian and Peter pay the bill I meet an Indian gentleman that I saw a couple of times in the Qualithe bar. We chat and I discover he owns one of the main wind turbine manufacturing companies. He is disheartened by the Indian system and explains some of the difficulties of doing business in India. Its not the first time I hear his type of story.

We head to Le Café for a light breakfast. The heat is extra humid after two days in a/c living. Ian tries to order the butter and cheese baguette with extra chicken and they end giving him two baguettes. One as we are about to leave. The watch the waiter pocket the adjusted bill amount straight into is pocket. We get a rickshaw to the government bus stand. After 20 minutes or so walking around inquiring, we find the best route is to Kodai is through Dindugal and not Mudrai. This is one of those generic India lessons. Knowing how and what to ask for. This will saves us five to six hours of travel and hassle. We book the 7 hour journey, non a/c, with two sleepers and one non-sleeper for 300rps each approx. We jump into a rickshaw to checkout a clothes branded factory outlet, back in the city. We arrive into the ice chilled shop and the prices range to a tenth of the Irish cost. G Star, Diesel, Zara, Tommy Hilfiger and more line the shelves. Unfortunately the clothes styles are far more suitable for the Irish climate and will only add to our already heavy backpack loads.

We walk back through the city. We visit a temple that is surrounded with small shops and stalls selling wares of all kinds. We joke at buying swastika stickers for our bags. We decide to spend the remainder of our wait in Coffee.com using the internet and watching a movie in their projector room. We choose, Munich. The screen is at least 20 feet across and the impeccable a/c room has large bean bags to melt in to. Well Ian's bag is meltable, myself and Peters are smaller and less flexible. The movie leaves me a little on edge. It brings up a recurring thought as I have traveled India. Ignorance. That of course being my own. Not knowing about the religion and culture of other countries. Once again seen how it affects so many people lives. India is so filled with religion, every where you turn. The movie shows how people justify their actions because of religion. Strange world we live in. I still believe the core message of all religion is love. This I argued strongly with Aidan in Hampi. Nevertheless, Aidan's counter argument is shown in Munich and every where you turn in India.

With 40 minutes to spare we raced to Pizza hut around the corner, jumped into a rickshaw, collected our bags at the Dupleix and sped to the bus stand. The rickshaw broke down on route. We looked at each other anxiously. It started again and broke down in the middle of a main junction. The driver pushed it to the side of the road. We jumped out and ran sweating down the road to our awaiting bus. We jumped on board pumping sweat. Ian and Peter seemed to have laid themselves a sweet deal. There sleeper bunks where a curtain of double at the end of the bus. I rested into my surprisingly cosy semi and relaxed as the bus drove out of the city. My attention was kept as we passed the out skirting street of Pondicherry. A hive of activity alive every where you looked. Street vendors lit by an arrangement of florescent tubing, gas lights or candles worked away as we drove by. India is truly and amazing place and so are its people. Westerners and there way of life is meek in comparison. The coach picked up speed got further outside the city. The next five hours was a forty foot racing over a dirt track. Ian and Peter being continuously launched into the air from their soft beds. Your bones and teeth jolting and chattering together. There was no sleep on this journey, well for us anyway. Indians lay around me deep in slumber. An hour after departing my bladder began to call. Thankfully at 2am we had a pit stop.

Back to Pondicherry - Day 27 - Saturday

Awoke and was up and out by 8. Guess what? Yes. Swung in the hammock with my book. Greg, the lazy bollocks, got up around 10. Headed to breakfast in our favourite place, well my mine. We got back, packed our bags and waited for the government bus to Pudu. Bus flew threw the streets blairing it horn and doing it usual miracle of not killing 50 people. Arrived in no time at all. Jumped off before the terminus and walked to the Qualithe. The boys were only getting up. Ian who had being sick for the past two days had already headed around to the Coffee.com to catch up on their game play. I headed around with Greg. Before going in I changed some money and paid Greg the money to replace the camera. To say he brightened up was an understatement.

The boys wanted to catch up on their game play so they were considering booking into a hotel for the night. We decide to get lunch in Pizza Hut. Meet Aidan and Eoghan on the bike. They join us. Gold Card special meal of three pizzas, 6 drinks and garlic bread. The boys find a hotel around the corner called Le Dupleix. A boutique hotel that is rather grand and very elegant with a large three growing in the centre of the foyer. We wait outside as they check out the penthouse/honeymoon suite. They take the somewhat pricey room with a hefty extra charge so they can sleep in late the next day. From a backpackers POV (point of view) it is beyond insanity. If your profession is card playing, it is simple maths. Head space to earn your living, with your resources being a fraction of your earning. Logic.

Eoghan and I get the grand tour. The room is evocative, opulent and rather OTT. It has being explained to the boys the furniture is CoCo Chanel originals. Much of the dark mahogany furniture has being fully restored. The room is masterful in stature and ingenuity of space saving techniques. Its crammed. Not at all what you'd expect to pay for the price on the surface. You have to appreciate the quality. If that's your sort of thing. I think one of the main reasons the boys choose this place was its convenience. Good location and has the WiFi. For non-techies. Wireless Internet. There is a third bed/TV area on a mezzanine sort affair above the screen doored toilet and separate bathroom. The room is chilled nicely and rather impressive decked balcony juts out which is accessed through large shuttered french doors. A large leafy tree over shades two wooden loungers, over looking the street below. Its a cool little paradise available at a very very modest European price. A private outdoor reading area, with loungers and swinging coco mattress bed, accompanies the entrance to the room. When else do you get a chance to live it up like that.

Ian offered the spare bed, if I'd like to stay and I gratefully accepted. The boys retired to the room for the evening and I joint the lads downstairs for in the classy restaurant for dinner. We were given a table after one hour waiting and having to remind them twice we were there. The menu was impressive. My meal was served fridge cold. The boys food was tepid so they wolfed it down. They took mine back and returned with after the lads finished their meal. The sauce was burnt it to the plate. I didn't complain again. What was the point? We ate a collection of desserts. Quite tasty. Knocked back some beers at 150rps per bottle. Headed up to the room. The lads had not got served until a moment ago. Reception had forgotten to brig the menus. An hour after they did the Lamb and Steaks were gone. They ended up with lasagna and an ice cold starter. They were not impressed. The boys left shortly. I headed up and caught up on blogging and uploading photos on Picasa. It was 4am before I went to sleep. Ian was asleep over an hour and Peter was still sitting, in the dark, at the virtual poker tables online.

Day 26 - Friday - Auroville

Up early, awoken at 6am by someone shouting “Hello, hello”. Got a bit annoyed with the landlord over being woken so he could get more guests in. Tried to go back to sleep although the mixture of the Indian music being played over a tannoy, hip-hop on a stereo, a group of young guys chatting and laughing loudly and ants nibbling on me, was too much. I took the hammock with my book. Over the morning I met the 10 Indian that had moved into our little resort. They had all just completed their final exams in Bangalore University. Really pleasant and friendly guys, who offered me to join them for breakfast. I politely declined.

Myself and Greg went for breakfast of Bombay (French) toast, pancakes and coffee. Really delicious and something I will rave about for years to come :) We rented a rather battered looking moped. Headed to Auroville and got a puncture just before we arrived in the Visitor Centre. Ended getting shafted by the security guard and the local puncture repair service. Ate one of the cheapest and tastiest lunches. Saw the Auroville information video and got our passes to Matrimandir. Looked around for somewhere to stay. Got lost for quite some time. After and hour or so we found the main Auroville Youth Hostel. Met a smiling Indian kid with the most striking eyes. He smiled the brighest and biggest smile and we smiled and stared at the each other for 10 minutes. The hostel only allowed a minimum of 2 weeks stay. We moved on.

Headed to the Matrimandir. Ended up dropping Greg's camera as I went to take a photo of him pinching it between his fingers. The moment was lost, as you might imagine. He tried to turn it off and restart it. To no avail. The camera was screwed. The lens was extended as the camera fell onto the square paving stones. We returned to the moped in silence. The walk felt twice as long as it had on our way there. I was battling internally with whether I was to blame or not. Trying to recall the event and running over the consequences in my head. Hilarious. Us humans. We are sure are a special species. All of our own. The damage we do to ourselves internally is really something else. If we saw someone treating a friend like we abuse ourselves we'd either protect them are punch them. Nevertheless, we spend so much of our lives beating ourselves mentally. What use is there in wondering in what happened or what might happen? I started to realise I was doing myself no favours tormenting myself like this as we walked along. Greg was in the same state and had a number of other things going on in his head. I looked at the situation. I was to blame. I had being looking at buying a camera the same as Greg's. Greg is 24, a student and was living on a tight budget. As perception has thought me, €200 to him is a lot more than it is to me. Bite the bullet, Sam. All this thinking had being going on and now we were both on the moped, motoring along, still in silence, returning to the guesthouse.

As the bike hopped along on the dirt track leaving the Auroville complex, my self created cloud began to lift. I felt so much lighter after making the decision. I hadn't said it to Greg yet, although I was sure of the decision. We got back on to the main roads of surrounding and in a minute we came through the first town. I took the right junction, waved at a few locals and sped on. Greg mentioned were we going on the right direction, which I replied to with certainty. Well as much as you can, on the bucket we were driving. 1Km later we came around a corner and were moving along at a good speed when the bike lost control. The back started fishtailing and wobbling. I started braking in bursts to bring the speed down while trying to control the bike from crashing. Amazingly we brought it to safe stop. The same back tyre that the guy had repaired earlier had gone again. We pushed the bike to the nearest entrance to a property. Rang the the bike owner and asked him to pick us up.

An hour later we sat, being entertained or perhaps we were entertaining them, by a few plumbers. They were working on the construction of a new house. Greg thought perhaps we should check with someone else if they knew where we were on the map. We stopped a man and his daughter on a bike and another man, with a blue baseball cap, stopped as we were chatting. The map was turned and looked at in puzzlement by all. Know one had a notion where we were. When we mentioned names of places they were a little more helpful. They said Pondicherry was in one direction and Auroville was in the other athough as to where we were or the beach road we were staying at we might as well have being asking them where Ballygowackwards was. We kind of worked out we were lost, not where we originally thought we were and had relayed this to the bike owner an hour ago. Oops. I rang to update the bike owner on our situation. So we, actually I, because Frenchy seemed a bit annoyed, understandably, began pushing the bike along the road in the direction of the nearest village we had passed through. I was still smiling and laughing internally at the hilarity of the situation.

As we approached the village our blue capped gentleman, that we had learnt, from Auroville kept us company with questions and chat. He was incredibly pleasant and a very interesting man that under different circumstances I'd love to have sat down over a cup of Chai with. This wasn't really the moment. As we walked through the village I noticed a young man and an older one cross towards us on their bikes. Obviously, the rather annoyed older gentleman was the bike owners father. They young boy offered an older bike in swap for the one we were on. This was hard to believe as they one we were on, sounded and looked like it had come straight out of World War II. Well this one looked WWI. Inside I was laughing hysterically. The father seemed to saying something about money as I explained the day we had being through, to the young guy. There was some communication between them and we were off, on our dinosaur. Whizzing along, in the right direction this time. Beeping, our speed induced horn as we went.

We gave back in the bike when we got back. Auroville had not left the best feeling in our short visit to it. This is silly, although we are only human. The rest of the evening was used to catch up on internet, rock in the hammock reading my book. Dinner with 10 Bangalorians in a rather dingy looking place. There waiter looked like he came from the same era as the later bike we had that day. It so strange seeing such old people working in India. Crippled over with age. Its some sight. Quiet shocking. Later Greg told me he had received a lot of bad news when he was on the internet from back home so his head was all over the place. I told him I'd cover the camera, although I think it was the last thing on his mind. I sat up for an hour after he went to bed reading and swinging.

A little bit of France - Day 23 - Tuesday - Pondicherry

Wake up at nine and call in to see if Ian or Greg are awake. Greg is sitting up in bed and Ian is lying down on his belly. That being his own belly and not Greg's. I head down to the Internet Café to upload photos with Picasa. The power goes so I leave before getting anything done.

Myself and Greg go for breakfast. The power goes again. We get served the most delicious coffee. Not. We meet Ian as we are walking back. He wonders where we had disappeared to. We meet the rest of the lads apart from Peter who is comatose back in the room. Greg heads back to get some packing done before we leave. I leave Ian, Eoghan and Aidan to get breakfast as I go to the beach to do a ritual.

The beach is lined with fishing boats and men as they prepare nets and stock for their days catches. A swarm of horseflies play and dance in the warm breeze. As I walk back up the main street I'm stopped by a smiling Indian gentleman that tells me, “Jesus love me”. I call around to Swamiji to let him know we are heading off and ask him if he needs some help with the internet. Myself and Swamiji arrive and the power is gone again. I go to my room and collect my bags. Upon my return the power is back.

We get some internet stuff done and I find out that Swamiji is also know as Saswot. The rest of the gang gather in the internet cafe and wait for me before we leave. The owner of the guest house organises a rickshaw for the six of us and all our bags. I'm looking forward to seeing the size it.

As expected the rickshaw can not possibly fit all of us and our bags into it, even after the owner insisting it would. So in stubbornness and refusal to pay any more we all pile in. With the sardine arrangement perfected, the rickshaw driver then ask us to pay more. We argue as usual and agree to ten more rupees than agreed.

I can only imagine what it looks like. Something similar to the Simpsons sketch of the clowns getting out of the small car as 6 fairly tall lads and 12 bags and two guitars empty out at the bus stop. Locals stand around laughing at the sight of us.

A minute later we are all jumping onto the bus to Pondicherry, as he barely stops as we clamber on board. The bus is jammed with only Indian as the six whities block up what little space is left. After the usual array of gazes and glares the audience return to watching their movie. After a number of stops the majority of us get seats. Myself and Aidan sit in open the open doorways. One at the front and one at the back.

The views skirting by at speed. Fields, houses and villages. A large quantity of houses in India are totally painted by an advertiser. We think we have it bad in Ireland. Can you imagine your whole house being an advertisement for Massey Ferguson. I presume this helps people to survive. As we make our way along the coast I notice a Tsunami village built along the coast. I also notice a large quantity of fields far in from the coast which are covered in sand. At one stage, in the distance, I see to our right large domed hills of white. As we get closer I see they are salt fields. Men and women working away farming them, collecting the salt into smaller piles. The smaller piles are collected and then you have the large hills of salt. Something I've never seen before.

The bus passengers are either locked watching the movie or trying to catch some sleep. The film is like any fast action packed movie we see everyday. The hero is killing people left right and centre. Dropping motorbikes on some, shooting others and doing a variety of Matrix style martial art moves on others. Its quite ridiculous. A couple of times throughout the showing, the story stops and the main characters start doing a music video. Something similar to Austin Powers.

Two hours later the driver is bullying his way through the suburbs of Pondicherry. He's bloddy insane with near misses being the norm. Blaring his boat style horn to traffic as he drives down the wrong side of the road. We pull in alive to the main Pondicherry bus stand. As we disembark the driver continues to move along dropping us off in three groups. The terminus is insanity with buses racing through beeeping their horns. People scattered amongst this walking in every which way. The heat is a paltry 36 degrees or so. We collect together and stand on one of the piers to plan our journey into the city.

10 minutes later, after being driven through the streets of Pondicherry by a drunken lunatic, we arrive at Government Square. Himself and his drunken partner ask us for some more money for some booze. He illustrates this with the glug, glug, symbol of finger and thumb going up to his mouth. Myself and Eoghan walk away to the Qualithe Hotel around the corner.

All the boys are already there, sittting inside this old brown and cream walled, french colonial building. As Eoghan correctly mentioned its like something you'd see in an Irish pub with the old chairs and tables laid out as they are. We order a round of beers, soft drinks and water. A moment later we are joined by an old eccentic American man with busy hair and glasses. He starts conversing with Greg in French. Ten minutes later I chat to him and enjoy the rather insane chat we have.

Myself, Peter, Ian and Greg head off in search of accommodation. The French side of Pondicherry is clean and far from anything we have seen in India so far. The streets are laid out in a grid system of French named roads, lined with trees along the paths. The buildings are large impressive structures with small flowered gateways and colourful stepped entrances. After an hour or so our search seems futile with either places being full, too expensive or having a curfew of 10.30pm. The Ashram have a collection of places around the town that fall under the name of Aurobindo. These are peace havens that are for people looking for a place to stay where they can meditate and do yoga. The one I visited was beautiful inside. The place was spotless and the six bedded room I saw was spacious and modern and only cost 320rps for the room for the night.

An hour and half later we were back in the Qualithe with Aidan and Eoghan. We checked the rooms to find them to be more than acceptable, so we booked in for the night. We freshened up and I went about hanging my new hammock.

That night we ate in Le Space. Somewhere recommended by Glen and Will. After sitting down and Eoghan doing a small dance with the menu blackboard, we attracted the attention of a girl sitting beside us. Lisa was from Norway and she happily joined us at our table. A minute later we had three more girls come over and join us. A Canadian and two from the UK. The cocktails were the best I tasted in India so far. The food was delicious. The splitting headache I had was the only thing that took from the evening. After dinner I excused myself and headed back to the Hotel. With two paracetamols and half bottle of water inside me I lay down on the very short bed and fell asleep.

Day 22 - Monday 7th of July - Mahabalipuram

Wake up at nine and call in to see if Ian or Greg are awake. Greg is sitting up in bed and Ian is lying down on his belly. That being his own belly and not Greg's. I head down to the Internet Café to upload photos with Picasa. The power goes so I leave before getting anything done.

Myself and Greg go for breakfast. The power goes again. We get served the most delicious coffee. Not. We meet Ian as we are walking back. He wonders where we had disappeared to. We meet the rest of the lads apart from Peter who is comatose back in the room. Greg heads back to get some packing done before we leave. I leave Ian, Eoghan and Aidan to get breakfast as I go to the beach to do a ritual.

The beach is lined with fishing boats and men as they prepare nets and stock for their days catches. A swarm of horseflies play and dance in the warm breeze. As I walk back up the main street I'm stopped by a smiling Indian gentleman that tells me, “Jesus love me”. I call around to Swamiji to let him know we are heading off and ask him if he needs some help with the internet. Myself and Swamiji arrive and the power is gone again. I go to my room and collect my bags. Upon my return the power is back.

We get some internet stuff done and I find out that Swamiji is also know as Saswot. The rest of the gang gather in the internet cafe and wait for me before we leave. The owner of the guest house organises a rickshaw for the six of us and all our bags. I'm looking forward to seeing the size it.

As expected the rickshaw can not possibly fit all of us and our bags into it, even after the owner insisting it would. So in stubbornness and refusal to pay any more we all pile in. With the sardine arrangement perfected, the rickshaw driver then ask us to pay more. We argue as usual and agree to ten more rupees than agreed.

I can only imagine what it looks like. Something similar to the Simpsons sketch of the clowns getting out of the small car as 6 fairly tall lads and 12 bags and two guitars empty out at the bus stop. Locals stand around laughing at the sight of us.

A minute later we are all jumping onto the bus to Pondicherry, as he barely stops as we clamber on board. The bus is jammed with only Indian as the six whities block up what little space is left. After the usual array of gazes and glares the audience return to watching their movie. After a number of stops the majority of us get seats. Myself and Aidan sit in open the open doorways. One at the front and one at the back.

The views skirting by at speed. Fields, houses and villages. A large quantity of houses in India are totally painted by an advertiser. We think we have it bad in Ireland. Can you imagine your whole house being an advertisement for Massey Ferguson. I presume this helps people to survive. As we make our way along the coast I notice a Tsunami village built along the coast. I also notice a large quantity of fields far in from the coast which are covered in sand. At one stage, in the distance, I see to our right large domed hills of white. As we get closer I see they are salt fields. Men and women working away farming them, collecting the salt into smaller piles. The smaller piles are collected and then you have the large hills of salt. Something I've never seen before.

The bus passengers are either locked watching the movie or trying to catch some sleep. The film is like any fast action packed movie we see everyday. The hero is killing people left right and centre. Dropping motorbikes on some, shooting others and doing a variety of Matrix style martial art moves on others. Its quite ridiculous. A couple of times throughout the showing, the story stops and the main characters start doing a music video. Something similar to Austin Powers.

Two hours later the driver is bullying his way through the suburbs of Pondicherry. He's bloddy insane with near misses being the norm. Blaring his boat style horn to traffic as he drives down the wrong side of the road. We pull in alive to the main Pondicherry bus stand. As we disembark the driver continues to move along dropping us off in three groups. The terminus is insanity with buses racing through beeeping their horns. People scattered amongst this walking in every which way. The heat is a paltry 36 degrees or so. We collect together and stand on one of the piers to plan our journey into the city.

10 minutes later, after being driven through the streets of Pondicherry by a drunken lunatic, we arrive at Government Square. Himself and his drunken partner ask us for some more money for some booze. He illustrates this with the glug, glug, symbol of finger and thumb going up to his mouth. Myself and Eoghan walk away to the Qualithe Hotel around the corner.

All the boys are already there, sittting inside this old brown and cream walled, french colonial building. As Eoghan correctly mentioned its like something you'd see in an Irish pub with the old chairs and tables laid out as they are. We order a round of beers, soft drinks and water. A moment later we are joined by an old eccentic American man with busy hair and glasses. He starts conversing with Greg in French. Ten minutes later I chat to him and enjoy the rather insane chat we have.

Myself, Peter, Ian and Greg head off in search of accommodation. The French side of Pondicherry is clean and far from anything we have seen in India so far. The streets are laid out in a grid system of French named roads, lined with trees along the paths. The buildings are large impressive structures with small flowered gateways and colourful stepped entrances. After an hour or so our search seems futile with either places being full, too expensive or having a curfew of 10.30pm. The Ashram have a collection of places around the town that fall under the name of Aurobindo. These are peace havens that are for people looking for a place to stay where they can meditate and do yoga. The one I visited was beautiful inside. The place was spotless and the six bedded room I saw was spacious and modern and only cost 320rps for the room for the night.

An hour and half later we were back in the Qualithe with Aidan and Eoghan. We checked the rooms to find them to be more than acceptable, so we booked in for the night. We freshened up and I went about hanging my new hammock.

That night we ate in Le Space. Somewhere recommended by Glen and Will. After sitting down and Eoghan doing a small dance with the menu blackboard, we attracted the attention of a girl sitting beside us. Lisa was from Norway and she happily joined us at our table. A minute later we had three more girls come over and join us. A Canadian and two from the UK. The cocktails were the best I tasted in India so far. The food was delicious. The splitting headache I had was the only thing that took from the evening. After dinner I excused myself and headed back to the Hotel. With two paracetamols and half bottle of water inside me I lay down on the very short bed and fell asleep.

In to the heat of it - Day 1 - 16th of June - Mumbai

After finally peeling the boys off their beds at 3pm we met up with Peter and Ian and headed out to our first daylight tour of Mumbai. Clad in flip-flops and shorts brandishing fine Irish colour we walked onto the promenade of The Gate of India. The heat and smells are the first things that you notice. The aroma was a mixture of burning wood, spices and an underlying dirty smell melded together. It was funny for first time to feel like the outsiders. Eyes turning and gazing from the local Indians, as five irish lads walked down the path. Eoghan with his harmonica in hand was gaining the most glares. The Indian people love to look and I was pleased to smile back at any that gave eye contact. There is no unwanted feeling from them just a look of curiosity and wonderment. I imagine the blue and green eyed bunch of us was quite some site from their point of view. The promenade was lined with mainly young 20 to 30 year olds relaxing against the wall. Mobile phone in hand and dressed in a mixture of western to local clothing. Older men sat on the ground with basins of piled nuts, cooking them on top with a pan filled with some form of charcoal. Black and yellow cabs lined the roadside. The sea directly below the Indian gate is strewn with litter crashing up against the sea walls.

As we got closer to the square in front of the Gate of India the crowd was filled with Indian tourists taking pictures, hanging around chatting. Vendors will try to catch your eye and offer their wares and a polite although firm 'no thank you' seems to suffice, most of the time. As we made our way in front of the rather impressive colonial structure we were greeted by a pleasant young Indian man. He offered a handshake and a smile and suddenly we had gained ourselves a new buddy. He wanted to be our friend. He didn't beg, just followed us. Smiling and nodding and constantly moving between us to become our friend. We presumed if we kept walking he'd eventually stop. Not so easy. We all kept smiling. He kept smiling and talking to us, and following. We walked for around 20 mins before he finally gave up the ghost. There was no sense of danger in any way, we just had no idea what to do.

The city is bustling to say the least and everywhere there is a constant sound of beeping. Cars racing in around each other, taxis stopping to pick up fares, bus racing towards people as they stroll across these highway wide roads. Its a whirl wind of activity. The scattered piles of bricks now had a purpose, as the poor people lay on the unfinished path ways chipping away to create walkways for some of the many 15 million feet that fill this hectic city. The casting system becomes very evident as you make your through the streets. The most disturbing thing, although not unexpected after being told, nevertheless quite disturbing, is the sight of little children lying naked on the side of the streets. I imagine this is only the tip of the iceberg in India.

Our aim was now to find the tourist office. Leaving late in the afternoon is a wise move as the high mid-day heat has dissipated to a paltry Irish heat-wave. Weaving through the barage of stalls and shops is an amazing experience. The experience of new smells and sights is like nothing I've come across before. Sugar cane drink stands threshing the fresh cane as locals stand around, skilled men hand carving marble masterpieces, groups of men huddled over dismantled mobile phones soldering minute electronic components are just some of the many sights that great you. It is sensory overload even for the most avid traveler. We ended getting a little bit lost before we stopped and asked for directions. The Veer Naiman Rd is one the main roads cutting across the southern end of Mumbai. It opens out into a wide avenue, lined on either side by the tall trees of the Oval Maiden parks. I imagine popular cricket fields in days gone by, now in what seems to be a state of repair. There is definite improvements going on around the city, although it is so overwhelmed by the general disrepair you can see. We finally arrived at Church Gate Station and knew the Tourist Information was close by. We got a quick look inside as hoards of people were racing for their red and white trains. We thought perhaps another day might be better to explore further. As we finally entered the Indian tourist office across the road, we were welcomed with a blast of ice cold air. This is a super luxury after walking through the stifling heat. We were greeted by a lovely smiling indian lady reading her magazine. Myself and Ian collapsed, dripping in sweat, into the waiting seats. The boys found some nice couches to rest their weary and wilting bodies on.

The office was lavishly laid out in old 19^th century mahogany paneling with a quite spectacular silver hammered wall covering on one end of the room. It felt like stepping back in time to the 1950s. The place was empty apart from us and a few staff pottering around. We were assisted in every possible way and made feel most welcome. Finally after collecting our photocopies of hotels, maps and Mumbai guide we left the delicious cold office behind and headed back into the heat. One task completed, three hours later, 1.2 miles.

We raced across some more crazy roads dodging the onslaught of honking drivers. We decided to pick up an Indian SIM card in the Asiatic Centre. Not to unsimilar to a Wigoders in Ireland. Learning the lesson of Indian bureaucracy is one to take note of. It took nearly 1 hour to go through this process with forms filled, photos taken, and copies of my passport and visa to be got. After paying we were politely told that the card would be activated in 30 mins. After getting some water we decided to starting heading back towards our hotel and to pick something up along the way.

As we crossed back across town we noticed one of the most dilapidated buildings I had ever seen. It was hard to believe this imposing building was still standing. An Indian stopped to look at what possibly we could be taking a photo of. He smiled in a bemused look and kept stopping to watch as we snapped away. Within 10 mins we were back within minutes of our hotel walking down Mahatma Ghandi Rd. This leads onto an impressive roundabout surrounded by three and some of Mumbais most interesting looking buildings. We decided we need to break for food and beer. Eoghan noticed a Sports bar with a pool table and the decision was made.

SBKs is like a Captain Americas/Morrison Hotel Bar. Very chiq and only filled with the most well dressed young Indians we had seen. To get an idea of the cost, a game of pool was nearly €2 a game. This same amount can get you an air-con bed in the local very clean YMCA . I'm sure we were sitting amongst some of Bollywoods best although this was news to us. I felt like we were cheating a little, because we might as well have being back in Dublin, nevertheless I wasn't complaining when I sat down in the chilled stylish bar with cosy leather couches. We drank the local beer and ate the delectable food. A few games of pool was had and a couple of basketball hoops shot. We headed back to the hotel. Drank some beers out the front. I got a headache and went to bed. The boys followed followed shortly and another couple hours of chatting brought sleep upon us quickly.

The Jouney Begins - Day 0

Hello all. Currently typing this while sitting on my bed in the rather lovely air-con room of the Sea Palace in Coloba, Mumbai, India. I've just woken after 5 hours sleep and decided no time like the present to get blogging.

We began our journey, well I began my travelling a bit ahead of the lads. I left Villa Bochella, Ponte a Moriano, in Italy at 8am Sunday morning. I then got a lift to Lucca train station. A two hour journey to Florence. Then a train to Rome. A metro to Angina. A bus to Ciampino, Rome airport. A flight to Dublin. I was met by my beautiful boyfriend João and by one of my travelling buddies, Eoghan, at 7.30pm. Eoghan dropped us back to my house in Kimmage. (first trip 2,422 km) I spent some final quality hours in Dublin. I was about to leave my amazing partner for the next 6 months, so I was really valuing every moment of the time. Something we appreciate more, when time is short.

Myself and João headed to the airport in a taxi at 2am. I remember as we were driving through the city taking it all in, as this was going to be the last time, for over 365 days, I'd see the streets of Dublin. A rather beautiful city, when you look up at the variety of buildings and diverse architectural styles. When we got to the airport we had our final dinner together for some time. Everywhere we looked, the airport was filled with unconscious bodies. Lying on any square inch of soft furnishing that could be found. We resided to the floor of the rather alien-esk interior of the Aer Lingus check-in lounge.

After taking a small nap in João's lap, Eoghan and Aidan, my second travelling buddy arrived at 4am. Both of the boys looked as shattered as I felt. Eoghan brought along a miniature guitar. That's going to be fun. We did our last hugs and kisses goodbye. Its a really strange feeling leaving someone you love for something like 6 months. Even though you know your going to see them again, its quite a shock to the system. Obviously much harder for the person that is not heading off. As you are going to be distracted every moment by new experiences. I'll miss my sweet heart insurmountably. XXX

We took our first flight, Aer Lingus LR125 to Heathrow, UK at 6.40am. On time. Rather comfortable as they gave us three seats each. Emergeny rows at that. I fell asleep before take off and woke 30mins later flying over the UK. We landed, rather roughly, on time in Heathrow. (279 miles) We then took a 1 hour journey, of walking, bus, multiple security check throughs, to Terminal 4. For anyone that goes through Heathrow, buy what you need in Dublin duty free. Its at least 30% more expensive in LHR. Thats across the board. We boarded our flight BA139 to Mumbai, India at 11.05am. A Boeing 747-400. I chanced my arm at the BA desk for an upgrade although to no avail unfortunately. We were herded into the back of the plane. 10 seats across. We were placed in a rather Ryanair styled seating arrangement together. This was quite amusing as the three of us are all rather broad and tall. With Aidan bashing our TV controls with his elbows, sandwiched in between me and Eoghan. We asked the stewardess if there was any chance of an upgrade. God loves a trier :) The plane filled quickly and took off on-time. The nice stewardess offered us a free row and Aidan, moved giving us that much needed extra bit of room for our elbows and shoulders. The flight was going to be 9 hours so I planned a mixture of sleeping, eating and some movies. This was actually very pleasant. I took some photos as we flew over North Africa. The food was top grade. The TV screen in the seat infront of me was a nice distraction.

We landed in Mumbai, India, 20 mins late, not bad for a 3,400 mile journey. The heat really hits you when you get off the plane. Thankfully the week in Italy had helped a little, I think. We passed through immigration without any delay and collected our bags as quickly as you would in Dublin. We had gotten advice and orderd a pre-paid taxi in the airport. As you leave the airport you are greeted by a sea of indian faces, waving name signs. The air is thick and moist. There is a barrage of taxis parked higgly-de-piggdly all over the place. There's a constant sound of beeping horns. People approach you to offer their taxis. Aidan lead the charge and found a porter that lead us to a small blue car, where he awoke two men sleeping inside. Bags were packed in the boot and we piled in. The man barely awake, began to drive off without his headlights turned on. I mentioned this to him three or four times, before he worked out what was going on. The journey began with a similar feeling to a bumper ride in a fair ground. Thankfully not too many bumps, although he was going around 15 miles per hour and swerving all over the place. Cars were beeping him from the left and right and pushing him all around the place. We kept mentioning our destination, as he spoke about us being his God send and something about his memory. His English was not the best although pretty good for someone that had only gone to class for 3 months. We seemed to be driving for quit sometime and I started wondering did this guy know where he was off to. He just didn't come across very confident.

Its a real eye opener as you travel through Mumbai for the first time. Supposedly, India most westernised city. Many of the street are lined with people sleeping in them. Black and yellow taxis are everywhere, with their drivers asleep in the back, with the doors open. A lot of the buildings are run-down and shack-like. Bizarrily, amongst this you keep seeing shop shutters with the Vodafone logo printed on them in large. The streets are in a dire state, with numerous craters in the middle. Piles of bricks lie all over the place, on the side of the road. Traffic lights are only for decoration. And here we are with this lovely indian man, can't remeber his name, pottering along with us all crammed in his tiny car. We realised quickly, he had no idea where he was going. We stopped around 20 times to ask directions to Colloba. He kept getting directions and driving off in another direction. Driving the wrong way down one way streets, with cars racing at him beeping their horns. We were wondering whether we ever going to get there or perhaps get mugged before we even got to our hotel. After around an hour and a half the poor man finally found the hotel. The Gods had sent us a good one because he genuinely was a lovely man that just didn't know where he was. It can happen to the best of us. We got into our hotel. Paid our 7295 rps for one night, €100 approx for the 3 of us, in one of the better hotels a few minutes from the Gate of India along the sea front. We found two of our Irish buddies, Ian and Peter had booked in a couple hours before us. After unpacking in our air-con room we met the others and ordered some food at 5am in the morning.

So, if you got this far well done. This will prob be the longest post, on our journey, so my apologies for the length. Some will be very short and there may be a week without any. Make sure to leave us your suggestions of what to see and do. Keep safe. Sam signing off. Sleepy hello from Aidan awaking beside me now and zzzzzz from Eoghan.